


What if this storm ends..

by Starshaker



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Attraction, Drama & Romance, M/M, Short One Shot, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 03:25:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19803736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starshaker/pseuds/Starshaker
Summary: Abducted, kidnapped and auctioned to a demonic space warlord, Dean should be grateful to be alive; He is grateful to be alive. Though a rescue comes just seconds before he gets thrown into much higher stakes, alongside the most attractive ally in a crisis he's ever had.





	What if this storm ends..

Dean glared out at the crowded hall room of the space station. A camera drone hovered a couple of feet ahead of him and his image lit up another two screens he could see and was being beamed out to all the ships in the vicinity. This auction hadn’t been the first Dean had seen but it was the first where he was the prize on the stage. He’d been shoved to his knees and his hands were bound behind him, the thinnest ring of metal circled each wrist and an invisible energy force kept him from moving his hands more than half an inch apart. It was older tech but perfectly effective and there was no-one in the room who’d seek to help him escape. For all his efforts in discretion his reputation precedes him and as the auctioneer described his attributes all ears and auditory limbs in the vicinity began to take note. 

He cursed but no-one would have heard him from where he’d been forced to kneel. There were a few eager looking faces across the room who seemed more interested as they’d lip read his words on the monitors. 

The bids started and rose quickly. The auctioneer shot Dean a sickening smirk and turned back to his audience.

“Now, now, my friends, surely we can all appreciate that the famed chaos bringer would be worth more than a few hundred thousand Bits,”

“Then start the real bidding!” A voice shouted out from the crowd and Dean half suspected it was a plant from the rousing cry that rose from the others.

“So whose enthusiasm will reach five million Bits?”

The bids rose and Dean felt sick to his stomach. The camera drone circled him slowly and as it returned to front and centre the screens in the hall flickered and a split screen visual from the local ships showed the interested bidders who were still in the running. 

As each run out of funds their picture vanished until there were only two left Nerroque and Drennin; both bidders had wanted him dead for years. The bidding peaked Dean hadn’t heard what it had reached as Nerroque’s video feed filled the screen and bellowed out in triumph. 

Dean was yanked to his feet by the escort who’d brought him to the stage and hauled towards the transport in full view of the cheering crowds. Pain shot through his arm as the guy’s razor sharp nails dug through Dean’s shirt.

“You know I’m hardly going to make a good impression if i’m covered in bruises,” Dean said.

“You scared, princess?” The guy asked and shoved Dean’s shoulder hard and then grabbed his collar to yank him back, “‘Cause I hear Nerroque’s going to keep you suffering for _years_.”

“Guess I lucked out then, ‘cause at least I won’t have to look at your ugly face ever again.”

The headbutt caught him by surprise and Dean staggered back. His vision blacked out and the deafening sound of laughter echoed around him led by the slow gurgling chuckle of his assailant. Dean hoped the guy had given himself brain damage but at least he could pass out and save Nerroque the trouble or pleasure of knocking him out instead.

His vision sharpened as the light of the transport shot up around him and the sound of the auction hall disappeared. He shut his eyes expecting to hear Nerroque’s gloating monologue any second. The hum of a spaceship became the one sound to focus on, then a single set of hurried footsteps and Dean waited for another blow to hit.

A flat palm pressed against his arm from behind and his pain vanished. The quiet click of the bindings on his hands being released made him open his eyes and a dark flash of hair and a long brown overcoat pushed past him and towards the door. 

“”I need you help if we’re going to get out of here. I hope your flying skills haven’t been exaggerated.”

“Wait, what?” Dean asked. He rubbed at his wrists and jogged to keep up with the man whose face he had yet to lay eyes on. 

“Who the hell are you? What happened to Nerroque?” Dean asked. 

A blast rocked the ship and Dean braced himself against the wall until he could steady his footing again, just in time for another to hit, and another. 

“That would be Nerroque. Sit and fly, I’ll get you all the power you need,” The man ahead of him said. He glanced back at Dean and for a split second it were as if he were generating his own light. The glint of the lights lit up his eyes and bright hue seemed to frame his silhouette; He was definitely the most attractive ally in a crisis Dean had ever had. Dean squinted.

“I repeat, who the hell are you?”

“I’m the Angel that just pulled you out of the transport beam between that auction house and Nerroque’s ship. I’m the second one of the two lifeforms, that’s you and me, on this ship who will die if we don’t get out of their range in the next two minutes.”

“You’re an Angel?”

“Yes, my name is Castiel. I’ll learn your name when I know I know we will survive to use it.”

“Where’s the cockpit?”

“Through there, turn right.” Castiel gestured. “I don’t care where you take us, long as it’s safe.”

“Right”

Dean turned on his heel, through the doorway and his eyes fell on the cockpit and console. 

“Hey baby. You’re going to keep us safe, right?” Dean said under his breath. He ran his hand over the back of the pilot’s chair and scanned the controls as he dropped into the seat. 

Another hit rocked the ship and when he turned the ship to dodge another two hits coming for them an erratic voice signature appeared on the communications screen overhead. Less of a hail and more of a threat and there was no doubt as to who it was trying to get their attention. Dean ignored it and reached past it to the shields to shift their power to the rear and stern where the brunt of the attacks had caused damage. 

The screen directly in front of him lit up and he immediately typed in the coordinates for their jump. The ship began to calculate as Dean took the controls and ducked the ship underneath the space station. A risky move if they had a traction beam to drag them in but he’d seen the state of the interior of the station and they goal was profit not sustainability. Their clients had been expected to deal with their own security and Dean’s captors were more than happy to oblige for the price they expected and exceeded in selling him for.

He was just about to dart around the rear docking port when a terrific rumble rattled the ship and the engines cut out and the ship was drifting.

“Castiel!”

“It’s thrusters or a warp jump. There’s too much damage for both.”

“Warp. We’ve got to jump!”

Dean dragged up the sensor screens and felt his fear rise as Nerroque’s ship began to peak from behind the corner of the station. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the ship as more and more of it’s hull came into view. They’d have a clear sight on them in seconds and the shields couldn’t be redesignated to the forward bow to protect them. 

The screens in front of him flickered but were unresponsive. Regardless, he pressed at the frozen images of the buttons.

“Cas!”

“One minute!” Dean heard Castiel’s footsteps heading for him but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Nerroque’s ship.

“We don’t have a minute!”

“Shut your eyes.” Castiel called out, his voice nearer. 

“What?” Dean turned to see Cas rush in through the door and throw himself towards Dean. 

“Shut your eyes!” A burning flash of light blinded him for a moment before Castiel’s flat palm covered Dean’s eyes. Moments later a wave of heat seemed to pass through him and as Castiel pulled away from him his eyes fell back on the space station dead ahead of them was a mess of rubble and debris firing out in all directions. The main hub and auction halls would have been somewhere in the middle of the ship. Nerroque’s ship had been forced to turn away from the main blast. Dean tore his eyes away and looked up as Castiel who was ignoring the sight in front of them in favour of typing something into a small handheld tablet. 

“We’ll jump in ten seconds.” He said solemnly as he turned the tablet on it’s side and slid it into a slot in the main console. The screens reset and returned to their calculations for the warp jump.

“Did you do that?” Dean asked quietly.

“It won’t be the worst thing you’ve heard of my race.”

“What? That Angels are war-bringers and destroyers? You’re hardly disproving the stories,” Dean said. 

“And you are a soldier and a savior both.” The ship lurched and the blur of warp speed lit up them both. Castiel sighed, pressed his hands to the console and turned to leave.

“What do you know about me?”

“Nothing,” Castiel said and his eyes dropped to the floor.

“Why’d you save me?”

“Good things do happen.” Castiel reached for the console and Dean grabbed his arm and turned him back to face him. 

“Not without a motive, they don’t.” Castiel glanced up at him momentarily.

“There is plan for you and your brother,” Castiel said and averted his eyes, “That is why I saved you.”

“Sammy’s M.I.A. Good luck finding him, cause I sure as hell won’t help you.”

“It’s actually better that he stays that way.” Castiel reached up a hand and with a touch to Dean’s forehead he lost consciousness. 

\--

After a week of waiting for the next guard to throw open the door and stick him with a shocker stick or worse Dean didn’t open his eyes when he woke up; He listened. There was a low hum and an intermittent clunk fronm a engine, rattling in the ventilation and a multitude of shudders and vibrations that were too irregular to be footsteps or other ship occupants. It sounded like an old poorly maintained ship, worse still than the transport he’d been accustomed to of late. 

He pictured the angel stood in the bridge. He’d have to stay out of reach if he could be knocked out with a single touch. That in of itself would be difficult as his memory flicked through the times already that’s he’d felt Castiel’s touch. 

In Dean’s imagination he was met with a piercing stare and the longer he picture it the noises of the ship fell silent and anticipation built in his gut and not long after that, his groin. He palmed a firm hand against his trousers and his eyes shot open as he reassessed his priorities. His glanced around to see he was in an empty bunk room. The door was shut, the room was empty and he pressed his palm to his groin again all the while telling himself that his priorities should definitely be anywhere but getting off to the thought of his rescuer-come-kidnapper.

“Fuck.” He groaned and felt a pulse of pleasure flood him.

A loud clang made him jump to his feet and listen carefully for another noise. The ships intermittent noises continued but and affirming noise Dean might have been expecting never came. 

He turned on the spot and glanced around the room. He grabbed a heavy leather jacket that had been thrown over the table and when he felt it’s uneven weight he reached for the pockets. 

He grinned to himself when he pulled out a phaser and a thin pencil knife shoved in amongst scraps of metal and a couple of ration packets. 

He gripped the phaser in each hand and then in both levelled out in front of him. It was lighter than the one he’d owned which he hoped didn’t mean it had a shorter range, but it was well charged and fit well in his hand. 

He aimed it towards the floor and after a quick glance around the room to be sure he hadn’t missed anything potentially useful he turned towards the door and took a couple of deep breaths. He reached for the latch and opened the door an inch as he listened for something to tell him where the angel was. 

The ship’s array of creaks and whirs continued but nothing irregular to denote a presence. He opened the door just wide enough to step through and it let out a shrill squeak. Dean darted forwards surveying left a right in quick succession but no one appeared.

Metal grates lined the corridor floors and through he kept to the overlaps and corners each creak gave away his position. He found his way down two dead end corridors, and then the third led him to the engine room. He snorted. The engines was old and the shafts and gears were poorly maintained. Beneath his feet the floor hummed with the energy cores which were pushing them forwards. Dean took a step back surveyed the corridor again and when his gut told him that Castiel wasn’t going to seek him out if he hadn’t done so far.

Dean disengaged the phaser and pocketed it as he took a better look at the engine. A part rusted oil spray can caught his eye from a box shoved into an inset in the back wall. He toed it out of the crevice and pushed back the lid. 

He side-eyed the engine and something in him felt deeply sorry for the state it had been left in. He swapped the phaser for the oil spray and a cloth stuffed beneath it, and pulled the thin pencil knife from his jacket pocket. 

“Come on then girl, let’s see what you’re made of,” He told it. 

The work was slow but inch by inch he picked off the rust and dirt and oiled the gears he could reach while the engine continued to power them through space. The key workings would have to wait until they were stationary but in what felt like no time at all he’d ironed out the tick in the air flow regulator and the corroded wires were sanded and swapped out. 

He was lying on his back working on a faulty capacitor when the engine suddenly sped up above him. The capacitor sparked and Dean tore his hand away with a yelp and twisted to pulled himself out from the close space. The shoulder of his jacket snagged on the grate he was lying on and he couldn’t pull away. He swore under his break and tried to wriggle out.

One of the engine’s rungs caught him as he pulled away and he hissed and grabbed his upper arm to put pressure on the area. Blood stained the white of the shirt between his fingers and he swore again. With one foot he pulled the jacket loose and kicked it into the corner. He considered reaching for the phaser in the box but as pins and needles spread through his hand he figured he wouldn’t be able to hold it properly let alone fire it accurately. His best shot was to head back to the bunk room he’d woken up in to find something he could tear apart to bandage his arm.

He backed away from the engine, double checking that there wasn’t anything left that might cause any further damage. He turned in the doorway and would have crashed into Castiel had he not startled back a step. 

“Whoa, what the hell?”

“Why were you interfering with our power systems?”

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Dean answered on impulse. He tried to sidle past Castiel when the angel grabbed him by his injured arm. He winced and cried out. 

“How were you injured if you were _doing nothing_ ,”

“I guess your ship’s just a health hazard,”

“It’s not my ship. Castiel muttered, “Hold still,” Castiel told him. He held Dean’s arm out straight and pressed his thumb up the length of the cut. Blood welled up with the pressure but as he pulled away the skin was clear of any damage.

“How’d you do that?”

“I will admit to not know much of humans, but is it not a custom of yours to be punished for interfering with what is not yours,”

“You said it wasn’t your ship,”

“That’s true.” Castiel said. He turned on his heel and headed back down the corridor. Dean glanced behind him grabbed the jacket phaser and pencil blade in one hand and jogged after Castiel. 

“So what, if I let you punish me you’ll tell me how you did that trick?” He asked as he caught up to him.

“I don’t want to punish you.” Castiel said quickly, “Please forget I suggested it.” 

“Then what?” Dean grabbed for Castiel and though the angel felt like stone beneath his hand he turned at Dean’s urging. They stood face to face for a moment as it dawned on Dean just how powerful a being he was facing down and attempting to manhandle. 

“Do your worst man,” He said quietly, “I need answers, what’ll it take?”

Castiel looked to the floor and Dean watched as his hands tightened into fists and he braced himself for whatever was to come. He wanted to retreat but was equally frozen to the spot. He shut his eyes for a long moment and when he opened them he flinched as he saw Castiel’s hand rising towards him until he realised it was an open palm not a fist, and it was moving far more tentatively than he expected. Anticipation rushed in his veins and it felt like an age until Castiel’s cool palm made contact. His unshaved stubble caught against the touch and traced back towards his neck where his touch rested against his pulse and one finger grazed his earlobe.

“Would you consider…”

“Yes,” Dean said quickly, and immediately tensed as he realised how easily he’d given himself over to the potential of a light touch. He locked eyes with Castiel whose gaze snapped back up to his.

“What exactly do you want to know?” Castiel asked as he withdrew his hand. Dean straightened up and cleared his throat.

“Where are you taking me, what do the angels want with me and Sam, when are you going to let me go?.” He listed off and got nothing but a blank stare from Castiel in response. 

“That’s all?”

“If I don’t like what you tell me there might be follow up questions,” Dean said and shrugged. 

“I understand.” Castiel said, “Follow me.”

The bridge was more of a mess than when Dean had been piloting her. Wires were torn out and scattered across the floor. At least one alert was flashing on the console, intermittently lighting up the dim corners of the room in an ominous red light. 

“To answer your first question, I’m going to take you somewhere that the angels and demons cannot get you.” Castiel said.“I found several trackers and remotely triggered beacons hardwired into the ship’s computer.” He gestured to the debris across the bridge, “I had to remove them.”

“Whose ship is it?”

“Do you want to add that to your list of questions?”

“No, doesn’t matter.” Dean shook his head, “You already said it wasn’t your ship.” 

Castiel nodded once and crossed the room to stare out at the black of space.

“The angels want to restore their power and rule to all of existence. You and your brother are the foretold light-bringers for the light and dark side each. Under Michael’s influence, and your brother under Lucifer’s instruction, you will lead the fight and kill any who stand in their way,”

“Are you sure you’ve got the right guy?” Dean asked. Castiel turned and levelled him with a look. “It’s not a stupid question, I don’t know that angels don’t make mistakes,” Dean argued. 

“Angels make many mistakes, their greatest is following the idea that a prophecy written a thousand millennia ago should have any right to be played out at the expense of a universe of life.”

“You sound uh, pretty convincing,”

“My conviction has only recently rooted itself, but, in answer to your third question, I don’t expect to be letting you go.”

“Are you going to keep me as a pet or something?” Dean asked indignantly.

“No!”

“Cause being hidden away, _out of trouble_ with, what are we calling you? A babysitter? That’s gotta be only a step above what Nerroque had planned for me in terms of torture,” Dean said indignantly. Castiel snorted and looked up at him pitifully. 

“Do you not grant me a modicum of sympathy for being overwrought with the need to keep you safe?” Castiel asked .

“Sympathy? You’re kidding right?”

“I have thought of almost nothing else since I laid eyes on you on that slaver’s auction broadcast. And when I reach out to my brother and sisters across the stars it pains me that none of us know your name but they rejoice at the thought that _their_ time has come.”

“So they’ll be coming after you, thinking you’ve got me. Surely that means our best shot if for me to _not be with you_ ,”

“And if they realised the ploy and found you? You could not fight and win against an angel,”

“Find some middle ground then Cas, cause your plan sucks!”

Castiel glared sullenly at him.

“What would you have me do?” He said when Dean was finally starting to be unnerved by the stare. 

“The ship needs a serious overhaul; defences, speed, _basic_ life support,” Dean said as he crossed to the main console and pushed the loose components to the floor. “You think you know somewhere safe enough to land?” He asked, looking over his shoulder to Castiel.

“Yes”

“Great. That’s what we’re going to do then.” Without looking he pulled the data pad from it’s slot and held it out to the angel. When Castiel went to take it he tightened his grip.

“You say I can’t fight an angel and win. Are you gonna fight them? All of them?”

“If I need to.”

“Your conviction is going to stand up against them. You gonna be able to kill them?”

“I have seen your face and… I can feel your soul. It resonates with me indescribably,” Castiel smiled and if Dean had not been leaning against the console behind him he wondered if his knees would have kept him upright. “I will do whatever I can to mean that I do not have to be without it. Without you.”

“That’s some pretty big talk,”

“As a human I would not expect you to understand the-”

“Try me,” Dean said and crossed the gap between them in a few strides, grabbed Castiel by the lapels of his coat and pulled. Castiel didn’t move an inch.

“What are you trying to do?” Castiel asked.

“Kiss you, but you need to give a little,” Dean explained and was ready to pull away and forget his embarrassing attempt entirely when Castiel dipped his head and his hands grasped around Dean’s wrists. Dean leant forwards slowly, all the while expecting Castiel’s grip on his wrists to be used to throw him backwards. While his stomach somersaulted with nerves he moved at the last moment to press a kiss to the corner of Castiel's lips. Castiel turned into him and Dean dared to kiss him again.

A rush of adrenaline flooded through him and he shut his eyes as he let out a breath and shuddered. He pressed against Castiel as hard as he could. He flattened his palms and dug his fingers in Castiel's chest. 

The grip on his wrists loosened and glided up to lift his hands from Castiel’s chest. Cas dipped his head and pressed a kiss to each of Dean’s knuckles.

“I can see how you might think to manipulate me this way, but please do not attempt it any further if that’s your primary motivation,”

“Pfft, It’s secondary at best.” Dean scoffed. He yanked his hands away and turned sharply away from Castiel. He scooped up handfuls of cables from the floor as he made his way to the co-pilot’s console. 

“You might want to jettison those trackers. At least one of them can be reactivated remotely,” He glanced up from the chair. Castiel watched him for a moment and then waved his hand across the room. The tracker boxes disintegrated and vanished where they lay. 

“I need to make some modifications of my own to the ship. Please do not initiate any power sequences yet,” Castiel said. 

He turned and left the room. Dean listened for the footfalls to tell him where exactly Castiel had gone and how far but he couldn’t make out the steps over the heavy hum of the ship. He gave up his attempts and sank further into the chair.

Dean didn’t like to admit that he was sulking, but he’ was now completely disinterested in the console’s mechanics since Castiel had left the room. 

He reached out and ran his hand over the edge of the console. He yanked it back at the feel of burning towards the bottom panel. 

He pushed the chair back and slipped forwards to kneel and peer up underneath the console edge. 

A few wires were frayed where he guessed Castiel had pulled near indiscriminately. Shuffled around so that he could lie facing up at the mechanics and felt around for the circuit that was generating all the heat. 

A few particularly well secured wires ran into a small box pushed under the shelf of the console’s overhanging edge. He folded his jacket sleeve over his hand and reached up to wiggle it until it was dislodged. 

It dropped towards his chest and his flinched though the wired kept it aloft by a couple of inches. A red light lit up the underside of the console. 

“Huh?” Dean muttered to himself. He watched the box swing on its axis and in the dull red light he spotted some words on the reverse as it turned. 

_Nerroque Enterprises Transmitter V9.43 #2093_

“Shit.” He grabbed the box and yanked on it sharply. The heat burnt into his hand but after a couple of pulls the wires released and the box came away in his hand. 

Immediately the ship’s ambient noise whirred to a stop. Dean pulled himself out from under the console and looked around. All the screens were blank. He tapped at the screens and checked the power cables to try and bring the screens back to life. 

“What did you do?”

“You missed one off the trackers,” Dean said and tossed it to Cas as he turned back to the console. “Who the hell did you steal this ship from?” He snapped as he finally accessed the power inputs and the screen mutely showed him the power distributions. The controls weren’t responsive. The ship would only show him what was going wrong, not give him the opportunity for him to fix it.

“It was just a transport . At the time I needed discrete passage heading for the central republic planets, I wasn’t expecting to have to commandeer it for a rescue mission.” Castiel said.

“All the primary impulse circuits are unresponsive and there’s some sort of encryption on diverting power from the backup generator into a beacon.”

“I can hear it.”

“Really? You can hear the digital signal that’s being sent out across the galaxy,” Dean asked dryly.

“To your senses it would be as noticeable as screaming child a few inches from your ear,”

“Huh,” Dean looked at Castiel for a few seconds. “I have questions but first, uh I can’t get the system to respond to anything. ”

“I will ask it,” Castiel said. He stepped up beside Dean.

“Wait, you’ll do what?” Dean asked. He stepped back as Castiel reached around him and pressed his hand to the console screen. Twists of blinding light curled around his hand and down into the screen and dean squinted the watch. The console’s screen lit up more brightly but from where Dean stood just a step behind Castiel the back up generators’ power remained solely with the ship’s beacon.

“The ship is still loyal to Nerroque. It will not be convinced otherwise,”

“You know that doesn't make sense to anyone.”

“That is because you are used to primitive technology.” Castiel said. Dean shook his head and turned away from Cas to pace the length of the room.

“Angel’s pilot ships by instilling a small portion of their grace in the operating systems. A ship built by my race would respond to it’s pilot and crew alone. I had hoped that the ship would work similarly however my grace has given it enough sentience to respond but not enough to overwrite the operating protocols. It recognises it’s previous crew and their established security methods. I have changed it and am therefore deemed untrustworthy.”

“Then put more grace or whatever in the damn thing. ” Dean said gesturing towards the console.

“The ship is not built to process Grace in the same way a ship built by Angels would be,”

“Are we saying that Grace is like a power source, or is it a part of you that’s kind of like a influential infection?”

“I do not prefer either of those analogies.”

“I’m trying to make _your_ idea work here.” Dean snapped and threw his fist into the wall. The metal echoed as he felt pain shoot through his hand and wrist. He exhaled quickly and turned back to Castiel. The angel looked up at him and Dean shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know what to do Cas. We’re dead in the water.”

“I’ll try.” Castiel muttered and a flood of brilliant white light filled the room. Dean turned head head away and shielded his eyes with one arm. A heat prickled his skin and a shot of fear rushed through him that Castiel was going to burn himself out trying to get the ship working. If he did Dean would be on his own, and that had never been a problem before but in that moment with Nerroque coming for them the thought of being on his own was terrifying. 

Still shielding his eyes he reached for Castiel with his free arm and his fingertips caught against Castiel’s sleeve. He traced it down until he found the cuff and his hand against the console. He grabbed Castiel’s hand and pulled. His nails dug into Castiel’s skin but he couldn’t pull Castiel’s hand away from the console.

“Cas, Cas stop.” Dean asked, 

The light in the room dimmed and when he opened his eyes light still danced in the corners of his vision. A few more blinks and his sight returned to normal. Castiel filled his vision. They were stood inches apart and Castiel stared back at him. 

“Did you think of something else?”

“No, I uh.” Dean stumbled over his words but couldn’t look away. “Were you going to, uh, burn yourself out to do that?”

“It was… possible.”

“Don’t do that.” Dean said quickly. “Better odds if there are two of us fighting whatever comes from out there, right?”

Dean felt Castiel’s hand moved beneath his own and immediately loosened his grip and pulled back. Castiel caught it before he could pull back. 

“You will not be on your own through this.”

“Big promises to be making.” Dean scoffed and pulled away. He left the cockpit and as he walked he balled his hand into a fist and cradled it against his chest. 

He let out a deep sigh as he sank into one of the seats in what could have passed for both a hold room or a lounge living space. 

Not one seat matched another, the table looked too high to comfortably eat off and a blue tinged puddle next to the line of cupboards suggested that the ventilation system was slowly poisoning and food the crew had kept in there. He briefly wondered if he could poison himself before Nerroque or the angels got to him. 

On the other hand if he topped himself before anyone who wanted him dead or worse got here, then Castiel would suffer for him. 

He folded his arms against the table and dropped his head on top of them with a groan. 

He heard Castiel take the seat opposite him and he raised his head from the table.

“What do you know of Nerroque?” Castiel asked. 

“Not much, had a few run ins. Hustled a few too many of his lackeys and stole a ship or two, and uh…” Dean trailed off but Castiel’s insistent stare, “Stole his autobiography on a dare.”

“That was a stupid thing to do.”

“Well I know that _now._ Haven’t you ever done something drunk on a dare? _”_

“As a soldier and a spy for the Garrison I have not had the opportunity to develop the quality of misbehaviour,”

Dean snorted.

“Golden child, are you?” He asked as he leant back and looked Castiel up and down. The clothes he wore were ill fitting rather than anything that would resemble a member of the military and his demeanor wasn’t that of any suave spy from the holos he used to watch.

“My role and purpose has always been clear. Obedience is assumed.”

“Right.” Dean picked at his nails. 

“Did you read it?” Castiel asked

“I tried. Oh man, I tried. I couldn’t make it past page fifty something. It was all about how it was his destiny to assume control and influence over all living things; your proper villains monologue.”

“What became of it?”

“I think some Maldico bartender is using it as a door-stop, “ He shrugged, “I lost it anyhow.”

“I’m sure that infuriated the would be overlord,”

“It’s helped develop his stellar sense of humour.”

“I don’t believe that is true.”

“Probably not.” Dean said. He wrung his hands together and then stretching his fingers out against edge of the table. “What’re we going to do?”

“There is a chance that my brethren will find us before Nerroque catches up with us. In that case we may be imprisoned and you used for your foretold purpose,”

“So we’re got crazy angels or a demonic warlord. Do you reckon we could go out in blazing glory?”

“The weapons on board are largely primitive and certainly not numerous enough to hold off a boarding party,”

“Too bad your rebellion was short lived,” Dean said. 

“I suspect that I will now be used as an example for any angels who cannot follow the instructions of their generals. It would not be the first time I have been.”

“I thought you’d never developed the quality of misbehaviour,” Dean asked.

“I have never so deliberately gone against my orders, I have on occasion gone, in their eyes, unnecessarily above and beyond.”

“Well now’s as good a time as any to share those stories. What else are we going to do?”

“I suspect they will not paint me in a good light,” Castiel said and shot a nervous look around the room to avoid looking at Dean

“Tease,” Dean said, he kicked out at Castiel under the table and leant back in his seat, his arms folded across his chest. “I could guess some of your worst sins instead. Maybe, using the last off the coffee and not replacing it? Stepping on an ant? Shooting someone who was about to shoot you?”

“That space station did not combust spontaneously.”

“Yeah, but it was full of killers and slave traders. The few people with their good character intact who were on board, weren’t going to a better place from there.”

“Thank you for your reassurance,”

“Hey, if we’re going to die soon we might as well make each other feel a little better,”

“We will not be killed.” Castiel said matter of factly. “We will be captured, tortured and handed over to the angels and...” Castiel stopped abruptly as Dean tipped his head back to look to the ceiling and gave a heavy sigh. “Though if you were attempting to initiate intimate relations, I am not opposed,”

“What?” Dean sat up quickly.

“You said that we might as well make each other feel better,”

“That wasn’t, I uh,”

“I apologise. I shouldn’t have presumed.” Castiel’s apology appeared sincere, all but for the slight twitch of his lips which Dean took for amusement. 

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, and then when that felt too defensive moved to shove them into his jacket pockets only to miss them and fumble the movement. Castiel kept his eyes downcast but that didn’t stop Dean’s embarrassment from rising.

He flexed his fists into outstretched palms and picked at a crack in the edge of the table.

“Screw this.” Dean said and shoved himself up to his feet. Castiel’s head shot up to follow him as he circled the table to stand in front of him.

“So you’re not opposed.” Dean said, “Enthusiastically unopposed?”

“I,” Castiel stuttered and nodded.

“Come on then, Cas. You’re not going to make me do all the work are you?” Dean teased and a grin soon followed as Castiel pushed himself up out of his chair and caught Dean by the waist as he took a step back.

“Make it special Cas, it might be my last,” Dean said as he took another step back towards the wall and Castiel followed him.

“All is not lost, and this will not be our last,”

“Promises promises,” A small voice inside him tried to suggest that this was one of his worse ideas, that they should be finding an answer, an escape plan, and yet having Castiel like this overwhelmingly drowned it out. 

“I need to move you,” Castiel said.

“Sure,” Dean muttered, his mind playing out a hundred scenarios when the room changed instantly around him and his stomach lurched. He pushed back from Castiel and clutched his stomach with one hand. 

The room around them had changed completely and they were now stood in a bunk room.

“Did you do that?” Dean asked quickly. He wasn’t sure if he spoke for too long that he wouldn’t lose his meal from three days ago.

“Yes.”

“That was horrible.” Dean said.

“I’m sorry. I’d hoped to get you to the bed more quickly,” Castiel explained. He looked hesitant. Dean took a shaky breath in and as his stomach settled he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Says the guy who didn’t want me to kiss him earlier.”

“I didn’t want you to kiss me if your primary motivation was to manipulate me,” Castiel said as he stepped in closer to Dean once again, “Now I would very much like to kiss you.”

As quickly as they’d appeared in the bunk room Castiel was against him, his hands moving over his back and waist and Dean felt himself drawn in to pressing his lips to Castiel’s. He shut his eyes to savour the moment as the small voice in the back of Dean’s mind churned out a continuous running commentary of _what are you doing_ and _who the hell is the Castiel_? 

Dean’s tongue slid along the seam of Castiel’s lips and Castiel opened his mouth to him. Dean gasped as Castiel’s hands which hand found their way until his shirt pressed beneath his waistband. Castiel’s hands cool against Dean’s hot skin. That moment of surprise was all Castiel needed to catch him off guard. He turned and lower Dean towards the bed. 

Dean awareness of his erection tight against his pants intensified as Castiel’s leg brushed against him as he positioned himself above him on the narrow bunk.

“You are so beautiful,” Castiel said as he traced his fingertips through the hair at the nap of Dean’s neck. He shuddered and Castiel leant in to press their lips together again. 

Dean pushed up against him and tried to pull Castiel’s overcoat from his shoulders. Castiel’s lips moved to covet his jaw and neck.

“I can deal with our clothes if we are no longer in need of them,”

“Haha, funny guy. Go on then, angel,”

Between one blink and the next he was lying naked beneath Castiel. The chill cabin air prickled at his skin and he reached for Castiel and pulled him flush against him soaking in their shared warmth as he pressed kissed to Castiel’s shoulder and neck. As Dean’s hands caressed Cas’s tight muscled abdomen a deep guttural moan rumbled in Castiel’s throat.

Dean watched Castiel’s eyes shut and he drank in Cas’s blissfully contented expression. After what felt like an age to Dean, Castiel dropped his head down to Dean’s shoulder. He supported himself with one hand braced against eh pillow as the other traced a slow line down to Dean’s abdomen and lower. Dean trained his eyes to the ceiling and willed himself not to peak at the first touch. Castiel’s thumb pressed gently up Dean’s penis and upon reaching the head his full hand cupped around the shaft and slid back down. 

Dean tightened his fists in the thin sheet covering the bed and barely dared to move. 

“Are you alright, Dean?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” His voice rasped and he trying to push down the swell of emotion that he could scarcely explain.

“You are frowning.” Castiel’s hand pulled away and he sat up staring down at Dean with concern. “Did I-,” Dean cut him off mid sentence.

“If you touch me again, i’m going to blow my load.” Dean said and glanced to Castiel.

“And you... _don’t_ want to do that?” Castiel asked, still eyeing him warily and holding the distance between them despite the narrow width of the bed. 

“It’s, uh, been a while,” Dean admitted and turned his head away from Cas and stared at the ceiling again. “You don’t get kidnapped and get the touchy-feely treatment y’know. Well not the good touchy-feely stuff, but uh,”

“Would you like us to stop?”

“No! No, I just need to get over-,” He tried to find the words and could. He let out a cry of frustration, and stretched and tensed his hands as his mind catalogued his useless qualities. 

A gentle touch to his hand brought him back into the moment. He looked up as Castiel and lost his every train of thought.

“Still want to kiss me?” Castiel nodded. He leant in slowly and cupped Dean’s jaw before pressing a single chaste kiss to his lips. 

“You are alright?”

“Jeez, stop asking that,” Dean muttered all the while hoping desperately that as he looked up into Cas’s eyes the angel knew he was lying. 

Castiel took Dean’s hand and pulled it towards his groin and dick. For a split second Dean wondered why he hadn’t been surprised that angels had penises like humans.

“You need to be distracted.” Castiel told him. “What would you have from me?”

“God, Cas. I don’t have anything to ask of you,” Dean said as he wrapped his hand around Castiel’s cock. “That good?” He asked. Castiel guided his hand up and down and as Dean worked up a rhythm Castiel relaxed into him and he hand dropped away from Dean’s and reached for Dean’s hip.

“Let me share this with you,” Castiel whispered as he leant into Dean to claim another kiss. 

“Yeah, yeah Cas, whatever you want,” He said between kisses. Castiel pressed his hand to the back of Dean’s neck and lifted him up to deeper the kiss. Suddenly Dean’s mind filled with sensations that couldn’t be him. He felt the building euphoria of Cas’s handjob as if he were the one receiving and not giving it. The grip fell away and Castiel took his hand and returned it to his dick. He felt Castiel’s eagerness, yearning and attraction for him; it washed over him in waves and pulled him under like a hidden current.

“C-Cas,” He choked the words out and heard them in stereo. 

“You are beautiful.” Castiel words were met with an intense kiss the flooded Dean which euphoria. Castiel’s orgasm was building and he could feel it. He concentrated on touching Cas, one hand on Castiel’s dick and the other on his waist, then his shoulder, eveyr patch of skin not hot and slick with sweat. He moved his hand to Castiel’s hair and pulled him in deepening the kiss, not willing to let Castiel go for a moment.

“ _Dean, Dean, Dean_ ,” Castiel repeated his name like a mantra in both of their heads as he doubled over into their embrace. 

No sooner had Dean thought _he’s going to come soon_ than Castiel’s orgasm had them both coming and holding on the the other as hard as they dared.

Between one blink and the next Dean was once again staring up at the ceiling.

“Wow”

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked from beside him. In the small bunk Castiel now lay along Dean’s side. Dean’s heart felt like it was beating so loudly that Castiel was sure to see hear and feel it with how closely he was lying. 

Dean nodded and after a moment looked to Castiel and dragged him in for a slow languid kiss. Distantly he knew he was tired and slow kisses was all he could manage. He felt Castiel push him to roll over and the concern from the thought that Castiel’s stamina would far outlast his own made him open his eyes. Castiel shushed him.

“Relax Dean, I am quite sated,” Castiel said. He turned Dean to lie on his side and pressed a kiss to the back of Dean’s shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Castiel hooked his arm around Dean’s waist and used the thin sheet to wipe at the cum on his stomach.

For the first time in years, Dean relaxed into his partner’s warmth and dozed lightly. 

“What did you do, before you were kidnapped?”

“Bit of everything y’know. Hustling, odd jobs, courier service if I could get it a little search and rescue. I had this data pad and it must have had a hundred or so people on it. Anyone who was lost and their families were looking for them. I found a couple of dozen over the years, not all alive but their family could get that resolution y’know,”

“Had you lost someone yourself?” Castiel asked

“I haven’t known where my brother is for about four years now. I went to check up on him a couple of years into his studying and he was just gone. No-one could tell me when or where.” 

“Were you close before then?” Castiel asked and his arm tightened around Dean’s waist in a show of comfort. 

“Mum died when Sammy was about six months old, Dad never really recovered. It was my job to look after him, y’know. Him and me against the universe.” Dean smiled at the childish thought that he and Sam would have stuck together for all their lives. 

He looked over his shoulder at Castiel who seemed to be studying him silently.. 

“I thought you knew all about me?”

“When I saw your image I asked my siblings why I had such a response to you. They told me your heritage and your place in their prophecy. I know how you feel to me and I could scan your thoughts should I wish,”

“Have you?”

“I did when I first brought you aboard. I needed to know if you could fly the ship, and I tried to find out if you knew what you had done to me, if it was intentional,”

“Guess you found out pretty quickly I hadn’t done anything to you,”

“Not intentionally. I can’t convince you to share in my suffering?” Castiel asked lightly, but Dean felt a smile of his lips against the back of his shoulder.

“Man, this should not be your priority.”

“You are correct, but there is little that I can do now that there are other ships within weapons range.”

“There are ships within range?” Dean asked. He moved to push himself up and Castiel’s arm tightened at his waist again and his was pinned to the bed.

“Our ship’s alerts have been sounding for some time, Nerroque has been broadcasting his plans for our surrender for the past ten minutes or so,”

“Fuck,” Dean said and wiped his hand up over his forehead and hair. “Is there any way you can give me up without getting caught?”

“I’m not interested in such a plan. To save your suffering I could put you in a deep sleep instead,” Castiel said. He raised his hand toward Dean’s forehead and Dean flinched back at the action.

“Whoa, hey. You’re not putting me to sleep again.”

“Why would you wish to bear witness to the pain and humiliation that Nerroque wishes to inflict on you?”

“I’m a hunter Cas, I go down fighting or not at all,” Dean said. Castiel’s hand fell away and he shut his eyes as he pressed his forehead to Dean’s. Dean too shut his eyes to savour the moment. 

“Is there anything more you will accept from me?” Castiel asked

“You can keep up the distraction.”

“Very well.” Castiel leant over him and Dean felt his feather light touch trace a line down his side from his ribs to his hip. “I will be gentle, and slow, and methodical. Until you tell me otherwise,” Castiel promised.


End file.
